


Master of the House

by CrimsonIceGoddess



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonIceGoddess/pseuds/CrimsonIceGoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My submission for the Fandom Against Domestic Violence compilation. A random act of violence sets in motion a series of chaotic events, and none involved will ever be the same. What happens when the justice system fails and you've got nothing left to lose?</p><p>AH AU Extremely OOC. Rated for extreme violence and gore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master of the House

**Author's Note:**

> "Watch ye therefore, for ye know not when the MASTER OF THE HOUSE cometh." - Mark 13:35  
> _________________________________________________________________
> 
> So this is the piece I wrote for the Fandom Against Domestic Violence compilation. This version is slightly different from the one I submitted. First off, some names have been changed slightly, as have a few other aspects of the story.
> 
> This story is sad and dark, so grab a kleenex.

It was a typical overcast day as she drove nervously to the airport. It was the day he was coming home for leave. After seven months without him, he was coming home. She couldn't have been happier, and yet, at the same time, she was nervous. How had he changed in his time away? He always sounded so distant on the phone. Had something happened to him?

She sighed heavily as these thoughts ran through her mind. It didn't matter in the long run. He was the love of her life, and no matter what he was going through, she was determined to help him. She would be there for him, would love him, and when he was finally ready to talk about it, she'd listen.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed the thoughts from her mind. Today was about celebration; he was coming home. She pulled into Sea-Tac and parked, taking an extra minute to make sure her hair and makeup were immaculate before finally slipping out of the car.

Her mind raced as she strode purposefully toward the doors and stepped into the terminal. She was anxious and elated at the same time. When she finally got to the gate, she began to pace. Everything that could be running through her mind at that time seemed to be. The thoughts she'd had during the drive returned. What if he couldn't get close to her again? What if this had fucked him up too much?

She was pulled from her reverie when the commotion started, and she stopped pacing. She glanced toward the noise, a huge smile breaking across her face as she saw him. His russet skin was slightly darker from the sun, and his dark locks were cropped short. But, she knew him anyway. He was hers.

He strode toward her, a smile lighting up his face. She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her face in his chest. “Oh my God. I missed you, Jake.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Well I'm home now, hun.” He knelt down, placing his hands on either side of her rounded belly and kissing her stomach. After a moment, he began to talk to it in a goofy voice. Bella laughed at him, running her fingers through his short hair.

“And how are you doing? Everything going alright in there? Kicking Mommy for me?”

Bella chuckled again. “Dear God, yes. I feel like Sigourney Weaver in those Alien movies.”

Jake rose to his feet, a ridiculously huge smile gracing his features. “Babe, Sigourney Weaver didn't get infected with an alien until the third one.”

She laughed and shoved him playfully as he bent down to pick up his bags. “Shut up! You know what I'm saying?”

He smiled at her as they began walking. “That our child is a vicious monster who's going to burst from your body and kill people?”

She stuck her tongue out at him as they slipped out the door. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. He still seemed like the same man she had married. With that thought, they walked toward the car, hand in hand.

The drive home was slightly tense. Bella chewed her lip nervously, her eyes locked on the road. The silence was frustrating, and after a moment, she let out a sigh and cut her eyes toward him. He was looking out the passenger window, as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the car.

Finally having had enough, she spoke. “Are you ever going to tell me what goes on over there?”

His face betrayed his shock as he slowly turned to face her. “What brought that up?”

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, and she chewed harder on her lip as she organized her thoughts. Letting out another deep breath, she responded. “It's just...I love you, you know that, but whenever I talk to you on the phone, and now that I see you, you just seem so far away. It's like your mind is still over there.”

He stared at her for a long moment, perplexed by her words. He didn't think he seemed distant at all. Well, maybe he was being distant, but he couldn't tell her about the horrors he'd seen. He didn't want her to look at him as a killer, as a monster. He countered her statement. “I didn't think I was...”

She sighed, frustrated. “Yeah, Jake, I know. Fuck, I'm not saying that you're doing it on purpose or even that we should have one of those boring ass 'examine-our-relationship' talks. I'm just saying I want to know what goes on over there.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why?”

She glanced over at him, briefly, before turning her attention back to the road. “Because even though you're here with me, your head is still over there. I don't want you to be distracted while we're together; I want you to be focused on us.”

They sat in silence for a few long minutes while Jake processed her words. It wasn't easy to forget what he'd done while he was there. He shifted slightly in his seat as he finally spoke. “Bells, listen. One day, we'll sit down, and I'll give you what you want. I'll talk until we're both blue in the face. I'll tell you all the things that brew inside my head when I'm on the phone. I'll tell you everything I've done, but I can't right now. I can't break out of my head yet. Just know that while I may change some on the outside, inside, I'm still the same man you married.”

She took in his words and sighed, cutting her eyes toward him with a smile on her face. “I know that, babe.”

He smiled back and squeezed her thigh. “Well, let’s just try to enjoy this leave I've got. I won't get another one unless something terrible happens.”

She snorted, her voice teasing when she spoke. “Okay, hun, I'll try, but don't think you've won. I’ll remember this conversation, and when you get done with this fucking tour, you're going to tell me everything.” Though she said it playfully, she meant the words. She wanted to know what was going on in his head.

Jake laughed. “Okay, okay. So what are we doing tonight?”

“I figured we'd go to Seattle, catch a movie, and maybe get some dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

**~o0o~**

The city was busy – typical for a Friday night. Bella and Jake walked down the street, hand in hand, stopping every once in a while to look into one of the storefront windows or slip inside.

“So have I told you about Embry?” Jake asked.

Bella glanced up at him as she thought about his question. In all the phone conversations they'd had, she wasn't sure he'd ever mentioned the guy. She shook her head.

He smiled at her. “He's awesome! He's got a great sense of humor. We watch the same type of movies. He's really a good dude.”

She smiled at him and nodded her head. “That's really great, babe.”

“I'm telling you, Bells, you've got to meet this guy. He's hilarious; you'd love him.”

She laughed as they continued their stroll down the street. “Okay, okay, I'll meet him. Jeez, Jake, I've never seen you this excited about someone before.”

“Oh yeah?”

She shoved his arm playfully. “Yeah.”

He stopped and turned to face her, his face alight. “Well, I seem to remember a different reality on our first date.”

She snorted and slapped his arm. “Oh yeah right! It wasn't _that_ easy to get me in the sack.”

He took a step back, his expression playful. “So you say. I seem to remember a certain virginal girl sucking on my fingers while we sat in the theatre.”

She stared at him in mock shock. He laughed and turned, running down the street. She laughed and began to chase after him. “Oh yeah, big tough soldier man...run away, run away.”

**~o0o~**

The car slid slowly down the road, the three men sitting inside talking amongst themselves. They were young men, the youngest being only nineteen. He's the one who spoke first.

“Yeah, dude, so I was at the bar last night, and-”

“How in the fuck did you get into the bar last night?” Marcus asked.

Riley grimaced, immediately on the defense. “My fucking dad works for the DMV. He gave me a fake ID for my birthday.”

Marcus snorted a laugh and turned in his seat to face his friend. “Oh yeah? Hard Nuts Hallowey gave _you_ a fake ID?”

“Yeah.”

Marcus smirked, not believing a word his friend said. “Well, let's see it then, Big Nuts!”

“I left it at home; I didn't feel like bringing out tonight.”

He snorted again. This statement had just confirmed his belief. His friend was bullshitting. “Yeah, right, okay!”

Their conversation was abruptly ended when the driver, Demetri, spoke harshly. “Hey, how about you guys shut the fuck up for a second. This is it.”

They pulled up in front of a nice brick house with a wraparound porch and wrought iron railings. The shutters were a dark, royal blue, and there was a matching bench swing to the left of the front door. The lights were off, and the garage door was closed. If he had to guess, she wasn't home. She never parked in the garage. Most likely because it was overloaded with shit.

He'd first seen this house three months ago when he was helping her neighbors across the street. They'd hired his company to move their furniture, and it had been while he was unloading their ratty couch that he'd laid eyes on this place. Since that day, he'd wanted it.

Riley, again, was the first to speak. “That's it?”

Demetri sighed, annoyed by the tone of his voice. “Yeah, that's fucking it.”

“Well, it doesn't look like anyone is home; why don't we just hit the house now?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I don't know, dickhead. How about you take a stroll up there and see if anyone is home. Or better yet, how about you whoop and holler around the fucking neighbor's yard; that way we're sure to make enough noise to earn us a fucking five star Grand Theft Auto rating.”

Demetri ground his teeth and turned around to face Riley. “Dude, shut the fuck up! We're not getting the place tonight, because we don't know when the bitch that lives here will be home. Her schedule has been all fucked up this week. We can probably get it next week.” He stopped, letting his plan continue on in his head. He'd been watching the house for a while, and he knew she worked on a daily basis, usually in the evening. They could come back whenever she wasn't home and be gone before she returned. If her schedule went back to normal, then they could easily pull off the plan. “Yeah, that's when we'll do it.”

Neither Riley nor Marcus chose to argue as Demetri turned back toward the road and started the car. He drove through the neighborhood with the headlights off, not bothering to turn them back on until he was about to pull out onto the main road.

“I'm fine with doing this man, just as long as nobody gets hurt,” Marcus said.

“Nobody's going to get hurt, dumb shit,” Riley stated. “We're just going to go in there, take some shit, pawn it off, and get some cash. That's it. Easy.”

“Al lright, if you're sure,” Marcus responded.

“Look man,” Demetri started, angrily. “If you're going to be a fucking douche about it, we can just drop you off at the corner.”

Marcus cringed at the tone of Demetri’s voice; his voice was meek when he spoke. “No, I'm in.”

“All right then,” Demetri said.

**~o0o~**

They stood outside the gate, their arms wrapped around one another in a tight embrace. Bella's eyes were leaking silent tears, staining his uniform.

“I love you,” Jake said.

Bella sniffled slightly. “I love you, too. Come back to me okay, Jake?”

He pulled back from the hug as the voice over the intercom announced his flight. He turned and glanced over his shoulder at the gate as the line of passengers began to load the plane. He turned back to his wife and smiled slightly, fighting the trepidation of leaving her again.

Bella sniffed again, wiping her tears from her cheeks. “Well, go on, get in there. I can't stay here all day, and neither can you.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and more tears spilled from her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath, resolving herself not to break down again until she was home. “We've got things to do, you know?”

Jake forced a laugh, reaching up to cup her cheek. He wiped away the stream of tears with his thumb and smiled sadly. “Yes, ma'am.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently before kneeling to grab his bags.

Without a word, he turned away from her and strode toward the gate, not looking back.

**~o0o~**

Bella cried the whole drive home from the airport. Seeing Jake leave again – having to say goodbye – was devastating, and she wasn't looking forward to the long months ahead before he came home for good. His leave had been short, just three days. She'd expected him to have been home longer, but his Commanding Officer had given the entire unit just three days before they were forced to go back.

Coming home to the empty house was hard for her. Everything reminded her of him. She grabbed the shirt he'd worn the day before and curled up in bed, clutching it to her chest as she cried herself to sleep.

The remainder of the week was sketchy for her. She returned to work the following day in a daze. Her usually talkative demeanor was replaced with one of sadness and pain. Even though she had a cushy office job, she still came home with full body aches. By the time Friday rolled around, she was so mentally and physically tired that she crashed on the couch without even eating.

The sound of the phone woke her, and she rolled off the couch to answer it. “Hello?”

“Bella.” Rose's voice rang out on the other line. “God, you sound terrible. Are you okay?”

She sighed heavily as she slumped down at the dining room table. “I miss him.”

“I know you do. Why don't you come out will Alice and me. We're going to the mall, and you could come with us. It might do you some good.”

She didn't really feel like going anywhere; she wanted to go back to bed for the day and wallow, but the movement in her belly changed her mind. She couldn't lay around the house, no matter how sad she was. She needed to take care of herself for her baby. With a resolved sigh, she said, “Sure, I'll be over in a little bit.”

Bella hung up with her friend and sighed heavily. Her growling stomach alerted her to the fact that she hadn't eaten in two days. She stood and shuffled to the bathroom, getting a quick shower, before coming back into the kitchen to grab herself something to eat.

After settling on a sandwich, she grabbed her keys off the table and slipped out the door, locking it behind her. She climbed in the car and headed off toward her friend's house, her thoughts shifted to her husband. How she wished he would be okay and come back to her soon. She hated that he was gone.

She thought, for the umpteenth time it seemed, about his leave. He was definitely different. Sure, he looked pretty much the same, a little more buff maybe, but pretty much the same. However, he was slightly different. They were little things that she noticed, probably things he wasn't even aware he did. It was the fact that his eyes always roamed in public places, or the way he tensed in a crowd. It was the reaction he'd had to the fireworks.

She recalled the night again, worry creasing her brow. Everyone shot off fireworks on that day…it was just the way things were. Before he'd left, he would have joined in, taking her to La Push to shoot them off on the beach. This year was different. This year, he'd wanted to go to bed early. After making love, he'd passed out on her.

She hadn't even realized she was asleep until the pops of the fireworks started going off. That wasn't what woke her though. It was Jake's screams, as he'd thrown himself on top of her, that had pulled her from her slumber.

She'd managed to wake him, and immediately afterward he seemed ashamed for what had happened. He'd apologized and left the bedroom, sleeping instead on the couch. That was only the first night. The second night she'd awoke to the sound of liquid running somewhere. When she stepped out of the living room, Jake stood at the edge of the hallway and the living room, peeing on the carpet. He seemed to be asleep, and again when she woke him, he seemed ashamed.

He'd slept on the couch for the last night of his leave, which was terrible for Bella. Since they'd started dating, she and Jake had always slept together. Back in Forks, he used to climb up to her window and slip in after her dad went to bed. It was hard to know he was home, but not with her. It had taken twice as long as usual to get to sleep because of it.

Neither of them had bothered to talk about Jake's actions at night. During the day he seemed happy, but to Bella it felt a bit forced. His smiles and laughter had always been natural. Now they seemed unnatural, like he'd lost a part of himself while he was gone. It was hard to see, and it worried her more than the thought of him going back. She wanted so desperately to know what he had been through.

Her hands were trembling as she pulled up to Rose's house. She parked the car on the curb and leaned her head forward on the steering wheel as tears spilled from her eyes. When all of this was said and done, would there be anything left of the man she fell in love with?

**~o0o~**

It was dark when the car pulled back into the driveway. Bella was tired, but she felt slightly better. Leave it to Rose and Alice to brighten any mood. The mall had been a fun trip, and Bella was happy to have some bigger clothes for her always growing body.

After a nice shopping trip, her friends had taken her to get a massage as well as a manicure and pedicure. They'd ended the day with a haircut and dinner at Bella's favorite steak house. Her smile was wistful as she stepped out of her car and started toward the door.

She walked inside, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the house. The back window was busted out and the shards of glass lay beneath it. The TV and computer were missing, and in the corner stood a group of three young men.

Bella's breathing accelerated as she realized what was going on. With a blood curdling scream, she turned to leave the house, cell phone in hand. The sound of the gun reverberated from the walls, threatening to deafen her before the blackness over took her.

**~o0o~**

Jake stood guard on the wall that surrounded the FOB*, his weapon at his side as he glanced out over the desert below. The place was hot, dusty, and smelly. He missed home. He missed his wife and the feeling of their child moving in her belly.

Bella was the light in the darkness he was surrounded with everyday. She was his anchor, the only reason he had for not losing his mind in this hellhole. A smile graced his features as he thought about his time home. He'd missed Bella's cooking and had been thrilled when he came home to find she'd made his favorite, Mexican lasagna.

Her soft curves and warm body had felt wonderful pressed against him as he held her while they watched movies. What he missed the most however was the feeling of his child. The baby seemed to recognize his presence, because whenever his hand was pressed there, he felt a shift or a kick. It was amazing, and she was even more amazing than ever for giving him something so wonderful.

He heard a noise behind him and immediately had his weapon tucked into his shoulder as he spun around. When his sight landed on Embry he lowered his gun and smiled. “Dude, are you trying to get your ass shot?”

Embry chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “I've only go to worry about that shit with you man. No one else is nearly as trigger happy as you are.”

Jake frowned. “I'm not trigger happy; I only kill what they tell me to.”

Embry sighed and nodded. “I know man; I'm just fucking with you. So, I just got assigned to guard duty, and I figured I'd come and see what you were up too before I took my post.”

“Nothing much tonight. It's pretty quiet for once.”

“Yeah, that's a change isn't it? God knows I'm tired of the constant noise here. So…how was your leave man?”

Now Jake smiled. “It was great, man. The baby is getting so big that I can feel him moving. It's amazing. I only wish I could be home for the delivery.”

“So you're having a boy, eh?”

He shrugged. “Well, we don't know. Bella wanted it to be surprise, but I'm hoping for a boy.”

Embry chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. “I hear that. I think it's pretty normal for a guy to want a son.”

“In all honesty though man, I just hope for a healthy baby. Boy or girl really has no bearing on me when faced with the past.”

“Yeah, I hear you. It's sad to think about all the miscarriages she's had. I'm glad you were finally able to get pregnant and that things have worked out.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, I couldn't bear to see her torn up from losing another one. Hell, it tore me up.”

Embry opened his mouth to reply but their conversation was immediately halted by the voice behind them. “Specialist Black?”

Jake spun around and snapped to attention, his eyes focused on the man in front of him. “Yes, sir.”

“At ease, Specialist.” The man strode up to him and offered him a folded telegram. Jake took it, his heart rate immediately spiking. Telegrams meant trouble at home. No one bothered to send them anymore unless there was an emergency.

With trembling hands, Jake unfolded the paper and read the words that would change his life irrevocably. He dropped to his knees, shaking his head in disbelief. This wasn't happening. There was no way this was real. This had to be a joke, and a really cruel one at that. Her light couldn't possibly be gone from this world.

Embry knelt down in front of his friend and wrapped his arms around his shoulder, his whispers of apology and regard falling on deaf ears. All Jake could think about was the loss of the most important person in the world to him.

**~o0o~**

Jake sat in his trailer staring out the window at the sand. He'd been dead inside for the past two weeks. Nothing and no one mattered now. There was no point in anything. He didn't register the knock on his door, or the voice of Embry. It wasn't until a newspaper, the Seattle Times, was thrust in front of his face that he snapped temporarily out of his haze.

_Three Young Men Arrested in the Murder of Isabella Black_

_Two weeks ago, twenty five year old Isabella Black arrived home to find her house had been robbed. According to police reports, she had just entered the house when the shot was fired. The bullet, fired from a .357 magnum revolver, entered the back of her head, killing her instantaneously. The suspects in the case, Riley Hallowey, 19, Marcus Narwell, 22, and Demetri Disman, 23, were arrested Friday night._

_After a thorough investigation, police were able to secure enough evidence to prove that these three young men were the suspects that broke into the Black house. The eldest, Demetri Disman, is alleged to be the shooter since his prints were found on the weapon. However, neither Disman, nor his accomplices are talking._

“ _I just hope they get what they deserve,” said Forks Police Chief Charles Swan, Isabella's father. “It's so hard to believe something like this could happen. Hers was the brightest light in this town while she was growing up.” Police Chief Swan was also asked about Isabella's husband, twenty-eight year old, Jacob Black, a US soldier on tour in Iraq. “I hope he's handling things well. I wish he'd taken the leave they offered him, but I imagine it must be hard to think about coming here with all the memories.”_

_The family will be holding a memorial for Isabella in Forks on Sunday, July 5_ _th_ _at 7:30pm._

Jake read over the article three more times, his eyes dancing between the words and the picture of the three suspects. These were the men believed to have killed his wife. Rage, far beyond anything he'd ever felt before, began to boil up inside of him. If he had his way, these men would pay for what they'd done to his family.

The next ten months flew by for Jake. Shortly after reading the article about the men arrested for killing his wife, Jake had become angry, volatile. His COs sent him to various military psychiatrists, in hopes of helping him deal with anger issues. In the end, it proved to be for naught and only seemed to make him angrier. One psychiatrist in particular, a Dr. Carlisle Cullen, diagnosed Jake with post traumatic stress disorder.

Jake fought the diagnosis and was able to ensure that it wasn't posted on his record. However, that all changed six months into the case of his wife's murder. Another news paper article was handed to him by Embry, this one turned his upside down world even more on its axis. Apparently the case against the three men was thrown out due to mismanagement of the case by the prosecution. No details regarding this mismanagement were released to the public, however.

The word that his wife's killers were walking free only fueled the rage within Jake, and he became consumed by it. He took his anger out on the battlefield and even his own COs. An article fifteen report was finally drawn up against him for insubordination. That, along with a psych evaluation claiming PTSD and acute depression, was put into his permanent record.

**~o0o~**

Jake sat parked outside the cemetery for what could have been hours. He'd been given leave due to his actions. Immediately after word came of her death, his COs had offered him Emergency Leave. Jake had refused it, saying he wasn't ready to go home. Embry had done everything in his power to convince him that it was a good idea, but Jake had blown him off. The last thing he wanted was to go home and have to deal with her death. Instead, he'd buried himself as deeply as he could in the conflict of the foreign land he was in.

Now however, after his article fifteen, he'd been forced to take the leave. Charlie had greeted him when he stepped off the plane. The two spent the drive home discussing everything but the one thing that was on both of their minds, Bella.

Their home, the one he'd bought just for her, was pretty much in the same condition as it had been when he'd been home. It was dusty, and desperately needed to be cleaned, but it was pretty much the same. The hardest thing was looking at the nursery. Bella, Alice, and Rose had spent months painting, building, organizing, and fixing the nursery up for the baby. Seeing it empty now, realizing that it hadn't even had a chance to be used, was more than he could take.

The house, which held nothing for him but more pain, was now up for sale.

Now here he sat, trying hard to push his body out of the car to visit her grave. He hadn't seen it at all. Charlie had told him where they'd buried her, though.

With a resolved sigh, he pushed himself out of the car and began walking through the cemetery until he found the row that held her. He strolled down to the sixth stone and knelt down in front of it, his eyes taking in the words.

_Isabella Marie Black_

_September 13, 1984 to June 31, 2010_

_Beloved wife and daughter._

He sat for a long time, staring at the stone in front of him, his mind taking in the words over and over again. Bella should have died old and gray haired. Beloved mother should have been written on her stone. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

The rage he'd been fighting so hard to contain broke through and bubbled to the surface, twisting his face into a wicked grimace. Jake reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded newspaper article. It was the one talking about how the case had been thrown out.

He unfolded it and stared at the words for a long second before rising to his feet and laying the article on top of her grave stone. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully back toward his car.

**~o0o~**

The three men sat inside Demetri's house, gathered in the living room as they watched television. Not a single one of them said a word, but each of them had the same thing on their minds. _Thank God they'd managed to get away with it._ They all knew that if they'd been convicted, which was what should have happened, that they'd all have been locked away for life, if not worse.

Marcus decided to break the silence. “Rob, you said nobody would get hurt.”

Demetri rolled his eyes and glanced over at his friend, wondering why in the hell he couldn't just let it go. “Yeah, well I fucking lied man. Anyway, how in the fuck was I supposed to know that the dumb bitch would come home?”

“Yeah, but you didn't have to shoot her man.”

Demetri rose to his feet, his voice loud and angry. “Well, what in the hell was I supposed to do, let her go so she could identify us later? You want to go to jail? You probably do you fucking homo...”

Marcus rose to his feet, now angry beyond belief. Riley stood as well, stepping in between his friends before either of them could do something they'd regret. “Look, all that matters is we got away with it!”

“Yeah,” Marcus said, glaring at Demetri, “by the skin of our asses!”

Riley shrugged, not moving from between his friends just yet. “Doesn't matter how close we were, all that matters is that we did it.”

Marcus pursed his lips, taking in Riley's words for a moment before shrugging as well. “Yeah, okay...”

Demetri sighed and strode back to his chair, flopping down in it. He was elated to be home and not to have to worry about this shit anymore. A small, satisfied smile spread across his lips.

The sound of a cell phone made everyone jump, and Marcus reached into his back pocket to answer it. “Yeah?” There was no answer on the other end for a moment. He pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced at the screen, not recognizing the number. He brought it back to his ear. “Hello? Anybody there?”

“Hello, Marcus,” came a deep, raspy voice.

Marcus' eyes widened, and he felt a chill slip down his spine. “Who the fuck is this?”

The raspy voice chuckled. “Guess.”

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Was this a friend playing a joke? Had Rob and Riley set someone up to prank call him? He glanced over at his friends to see they were listening intently to his side of the conversation, their eyes wide. “No way, dude. I'm not fucking around here. Who the fuck is this?”

“Tell me, Marcus, how does it feel to be God? To decide who lives or dies?”

His face went white and his breathing accelerated. His friends no longer looked curious, obviously picking up on his reaction. “I...I don't know dude...” he stuttered.

“I remember,” said the voice. “I remember what that was like; nothing but you and them, a hot bullet and a spray, and you were God...”

Marcus swallowed hard, and interrupted, “Alright Captain Fuck-stick, I'm calling the cops.”

The voice chuckled again; it was not a pleasant sound. “Don't worry, Marcus. I'll go...”

The line disconnected, and Marcus pulled the phone away from his ear, his hands shaking. He glanced at the screen again and gulped hard before dropping the phone. “Fuck!”

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Demetri asked.

Marcus glanced over at him, his face still white as a sheet. “Either a really good prank or a very scary phone call.”

“Are you going to call the police? They can trace the number you know.”

Marcus shook his head. “Somehow, I don't think the police would be able to help.”

As the night passed on, the tension in the house grew. The guys joked around and drank, but it was forced. Though no one spoke about it, they knew there was an elephant in the room. It wasn't just the phone the call that had them on edge, it was the girl.

When Demetri had originally proposed the idea of robbing a house, both Riley and Marcus had thought it might be fun. They had figured, at most, they'd get a few pieces of jewelry, maybe a TV or computer, and they'd pawn it. They didn't know why Demetri needed the money, but assumed that it had to be important if he was willing to go to that extreme to get it.

Neither of the guys had suspected what would actually happen. Things had started out okay. The house didn't have an alarm, so they were able to bust out the back bay window without worrying about anything.

The kitchen held nothing of interest; a Kitchen Aid stand mixer, a coffee pot - the usual stuff. The living room and bedroom held the crème de la crème. In the bedroom, the guys came across various sizes of diamonds. There was white gold, yellow gold, platinum - necklaces, rings, bracelets. It was obvious the woman was obsessed with jewelry. They'd grabbed it all, and it had garnered them half of their profit.

They were in the living room when she walked in. They'd already grabbed the computer and TV and were working on grabbing the expensive Blu Ray player when she came in. They hadn't heard her at first; she'd left the door open. It wasn't until she screamed that the three men turned around and saw her. Marcus and Riley hadn't even known that Demetri was armed until he whipped out the gun and shot her in the back of the head.

It took everyone a moment to register what had just happened. The high powered weapon had damn near taken her head clean off, and the blood oozed across the wooden floor. Marcus turned away, vomiting in the corner. Riley was bawling his eyes out. Demetri, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by the gruesome scene. In fact, he almost seemed thrilled with what he'd just done.

Marcus had to clean up his mess, and the towel that was used ended up getting burned in an empty oil can behind Demetri's house. The gun, which everyone seemed to think needed to be pawned or gotten rid of in some way, had simply been dropped on the floor.

Demetri had grabbed the Blu Ray player and strode out the front door, not even bothering to be discreet. When Riley and Marcus had asked him about this, he'd said there was no point in it now. The neighbors would most likely be calling the cops, and they needed to flee the scene before they were caught. Marcus had mentioned the gun, saying that it had Demetri's prints all over it, but Demetri seemed to enjoy the idea of leaving it there. It was almost as if he was taunting the police; it was a game to him.

Of course, the case against them was built quickly; all the evidence had been solid. They were going to prison, or worse, they could get the death penalty. And somehow, through it all, Demetri seemed nonchalant. Marcus suspected that he knew the prosecution would fuck up. Perhaps Demetri had managed to find a way to pay them off; have them intentionally screw up so that they could walk free.

Whether it was true or not was, of course, unknown. If Demetri did have a hand in their case being thrown out, he certainly didn't mention it. Which led Marcus to believe he didn't. Demetri was a bragger. If he'd done something like that, they would have heard about it.

The night continued on in a tense silence. It wasn't until around midnight that Demetri finally sighed and stood. “Dude, we need more beer.”

“So go get some then,” Marcus spat.

“Oh come on, Marcus, stop being a fucking pussy. Get over it already, it's done.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “You don't even care do you? You don't care that you not only ended one life, but two that night.”

“Hey, it's not my problem she came home while we were there. The bitch had it coming for walking in like that.”

Marcus shook his head. “Whatever, man. You're fucking sick, you know that? It's like you enjoyed it or something.”

“Dude, I'm out of here. You better be, too when I get back, or I'll throw your ass out.” He turned his attention, his face stern. “Come on Riley, we're going to get some booze.”

“But...I...” Riley stuttered.

“Come. On. Riley.”

That was all that needed to be said for Riley rise to his feet, following his friend out the front door. Marcus strode behind them at a distance, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys.

As the car sped away, Marcus remembered that he'd brought a jacket with him. He turned back toward the house, but before he stepped inside he was hit hard from behind – directly in the back of the head. He stumbled and fell forward into the hallway of the house. He looked up to see a figure dressed in fatigue bottoms and a brown t-shirt. His face was covered by a black balaclava**. All that could be seen of the man was the dark skin of his arms and his brown eyes.

He scrambled to his feet, the fight reflex emerging, and charged the figure throwing a punch as he got close. The figure grabbed his arm, pulling to him as he kneed him hard in the stomach. Before Marcus could react, the figure used his own forward momentum to throw him against the door frame, his face slamming hard into it.

Blood gushed from his nose as his vision blurred. The figure had his arm wrenched behind his back, keeping him trapped as he spoke. “So Marcus, shall I show you? Shall I show you how to play God?”

Marcus' mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get away from the man. As if his thoughts had been read, the man wrenched his arm tighter behind his back and pulled out a knife. “Come on man, I didn't even do anything.”

The figure released his arm and took a step back. “You didn't?”

Marcus lifted his hands in defense, his palms facing outward. “Fuck no, man.”

The figure stood for a moment, as if taking in his words before he finally lashed out and drew his knife across Marcus' right palm, nearly severing it in half. A scream bubbled from Marcus' throat before he spoke. “What the fuck, man! What do you want?”

“To play, Marcus, to play a game; just for fun. The stakes of which are someone's life. Doesn't that sound like the best of games?”

Marcus' eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

Before he had a chance to register what was happening, the figure lashed out again, drawing his bloodied blade across Marcus' stomach, cutting through the flesh. Instinctively, he doubled over, wrapping his arms around his waist in an attempt to stop the massive blood loss.

“I'm talking about the game you and your boys played. It ended a life. And tonight, Marcus, you're going to be my message…the message that every game has an ending, and that every man owes a death. Tonight, my friend, you're going to show them that there are consequences to their actions.”

Marcus lifted his head to see the figure moving toward him. As he drew near, Marcus tried, fruitlessly, to fight back. His body was weak from blood loss, and the figure used that to his advantage, pinning him in a corner as he stabbed him in stomach. Marcus cried out in pain, begging for his life, but the figure ignored his pleas, stabbing him again and again.

When Marcus' life finally left his body, the figure dropped the knife away and stepped back, letting the body fall to the ground. He strode around behind it and grabbed the feet, dragging the body away, a trail of blood being left in its wake.

**~o0o~**

Embry sighed as he stepped out of the police station and scanned the parking lot. After a brief pause, he pulled his keys from his pocket and began walking to his car. He was angry. Why hadn't they listened? Did they think he was making this shit up?

The sound of his cell phone pulled him from his reverie, and he paused, standing near the rear bumper of his car to answer it. “Hello?”

“Specialist Call, Lieutenant Andrews here. Have you talked to the police yet?”

“Yes sir, they wouldn't listen.”

“You explained everything in full detail?”

Embry sighed. “Of course, sir. I told them what he was capable of, but they blew it off. They told me they didn't have time for wild goose chases. They said that those boys were cleared of the charges brought against them, and that if Jake was as good of a soldier as I say he is, he would follow orders and try to deal with it.”

“They don't have a clue what they're in for, do they, Embry?” Lieutenant Andrews asked meekly.

“No sir, they don't. I know Jake; I know him almost too well. Those boys are going to pay for what they did. Jake can't let this slide; he just can't. I knew it the moment he read the article in the paper.”

“I still think you may be exaggerating it a bit.”

Embry gritted his teeth, fighting the impatience as he spoke. “With all due respect, sir, I know this man. Trust me on this; I had your back more than once when the shit flew over there. Did I ever once exaggerate a report or a claim? Did I ever once fail to execute my missions to the full extent of your orders?”

“Well no, but...”

“Listen to me, sir…” he started, interrupting him before the Lieutenant could finish his statement “…I saw him a few days after he got the news. It was as if the things that happened stripped him. There wasn't much left of my friend. Don't you remember how he was before?”

“Yes, I do,” Andrews said softly.

“He wasn't the same man, sir. You and I know it. We left out what he did to those people in Diwaniyah when we filed our report, to save him a jail sentence. That's where we fucked up, though. He should have gone to jail then; the guards would have seen more than we did.”

“I know, Call, I know. This bar on my shoulder didn't fuck up all my brains.”Andrews laughed bitterly as he finished his statement.

“I know, Jimmy. What do you want me to do?”

“We have a responsibility here, Embry. Find him; do what you have to do. Try to give him some peace. Maybe coming from one of us, he'll be able to get the help he needs.”

“I'll try, sir.”

“That's all I ask, Embry.”

“Goodbye, sir.” Embry snapped the phone shut, and let his eyes roam the parking lot once again. After a moment his attention settled, off in the distance, on the traffic that passed by. “Where the fuck are you Jake?” he whispered to himself.

**~o0o~**

Demetri and Riley sat in silence in the car. Riley leaned forward and pulled a beer from the six pack, popping off the cap and guzzling half of it before leaning back in his seat. Demetri stared out the windshield, his mind on Marcus. He could be trouble if he let his guilty conscience get to him. He resolved himself to have a talk with his friend. He didn't want to have to do anything rash; hopefully everything would be solved with words.

“Man, Marcus is starting to worry me.”

Riley sighed. “Yeah, the little douche is probably going to go to the cops.”

Demetri glanced over at his friend, his face contemplative before he turned his attention back to the road. “They threw the case out, Riley.”

Riley chugged the last of the beer before tossing the can to the floor. “That doesn't mean they can't reopen it with new evidence, dumb-ass. You shot that bitch in cold blood; we all saw it. He's starting to fucking wig out on us.”

Demetri sighed. “Yeah man, don't worry about it; he's just scared is all. He is just a kid.”

Riley glanced at his friend, incredulous. Demetri was twenty three, and hell, Riley himself was only nineteen. Marcus was older than him. “What the fuck are we, Rob?”

Demetri turned his attention to his friend once again before looking back at the road. “Murderers, Riley. We're murderers.”

 _Speak for yourself dude_. Riley thought. “Honestly dude, you're starting to fucking creep me out when you talk like that.”

“Oh really? You going to turn into a whining pussy like Marcus, too? You going to go to the cops?”

“Hell no, man! Just don't talk like that around Marcus, it'd fuck him up.”

“Yeah, all right.” Demetri snorted as they turned down the road to his house.

The house was dark when they arrived. The porch light was out, and as the car pulled up the driveway, the headlights illuminated a slumped figure on the porch.

“What the fuck is that on the porch?” Riley asked.

“Nothing; probably just Marcus. Dumb-ass didn't leave when I told him to.”

“But then where's his car?”

Demetri didn't answer as he shut off the engine and climbed out of the car. Riley followed suit, and together the two boys walked up toward the porch.

Riley's mind raced as they got closer. They were well within sight of Marcus now. Why wasn't he acknowledging their presence? He glanced over at Demetri who simply shrugged before speaking. “Hey cumstain! We're home; we brought beer.”

There was nothing from Marcus. Riley and Demetri stood for a long moment, their eyes locked on Marcus. Finally, Riley pulled out his cell phone and began to dial 9-1-1. Demetri reached under his shirt and pulled out the gun that was tucked in the waistband of his jeans. He checked to make sure it was loaded before walking up to Marcus.

As he stepped up beside his friend, he heard a crunch under his feet. Glancing down, he noticed the remnants of a broken bulb - the porch light. He pulled out his own cell phone and used the light to illuminate the area as best as possible. Gently, he used his foot to nudge Marcus. “Hey Marcus, man, you awake?”

He leaned down and used the light from his cell to illuminate Marcus' face; his eyes were open, frozen in death. There was drying, clotted blood on his chin and throat. Demetri's eyes widened as he took in the scene. Suddenly, Marcus' own phone, which was next to his leg on the porch, began to ring. At that point, Demetri became panicked and began to freak out.

Ring Once...

“Fuck dude! Marcus is dead; tell them to send an ambulance, Riley, a fucking ambulance!”

Ring Twice...

Demetri glanced around the dark yard and porch of the house, as if to find whoever was calling. Upon seeing nothing, he glanced back down at Marcus' phone. On the third ring, he reached over with a trembling hand and picked it up, bringing it to his ear to answer it. “H-hello,” he said in a shaky voice.

There was a raspy sounding chuckle on the other end before the voice spoke. “I see you found Marcus, Demetri.”

“Who the fuck are you man? You killed Marcus?”

The voice chuckled darkly. “Yeah.”

Demetri fell back onto his butt, his mind reeling. There was no way this was real. What kind of person would openly admit to killing someone? _The fucked up kind._ He thought to himself.

His whole body trembled as he tried to calm his nerves and find his voice. “What the fuck did he do to you, man?” His voice broke on the last word, and he closed his eyes. No way was he going to break down like some kind of pussy. Crying was for weak-ass motherfuckers, and he was anything but weak.

“It's not so much what he did. It's what you did. You and Riley and him, actually. You took the light out of my world, Demetri, and I'm going to take the life from yours.”

Demetri's stomach lurched, and he closed his mouth tightly, willing the bile to stay inside his body. With a shaky hand, he snapped the phone shut and tossed it away. After a few moments of trying to compose himself, he ran back to his car and slid the gun under the driver's seat. He closed the door and leaned back against the car, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as he waited for the cops to arrive.

**~o0o~**

Demetri and Riley walked out of the hospital, their faces ashen. Neither of them said a word as they stared straight ahead; only their eyes moved as they searched for Demetri's car. After a moment, they found the car and began walking toward it. Just as they got to the where the car was parked, Riley slipped his arm out and stopped Demetri. “What did that guy say, Rob?”

Demetri sighed and glanced over at Riley. “He said he killed Marcus.”

Riley's jaw dropped as he stared straight into Demetri's eyes, looking for any sign of deception. “You're lying, man! He didn't just come out and say that. He said something else!”

Demetri shrugged. He was past this. Sure, his friend was dead, but he was pretty sure it wasn't the guy that called his phone. After all, what moron would call and gloat about killing someone? The police seemed to think there was something to the call, however, and had taken the phone as evidence.

“Yeah, he did.” He finally spoke, his eyes locked on Riley's. “He said I took the light from his candles or some shit. It's just some sick prick playing a really cruel prank. There's no way that phone call and what happened to Marcus are related.”

Riley ground his teeth and stepped in front of Demetri, his face a portrait of anger. “Bullshit! It's not a fucking prank. Marcus is dead, Demetri! This isn't a fucking game!” He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair as he began to pace in front of his friend. After a moment, he stopped and stared at Demetri again. “You had to shoot that bitch! I bet this is happening because of her. Did you notice she was pregnant? Now Marcus is dead, and we're fucking next…”

As he finished his statement, Demetri grabbed his shirt and slammed him hard into the car. “I know this isn't a game, fucktard! You were there that night! You had just as much to do with that bitch's death as I did. I didn't see you trying to stop me. You would've pulled the trigger yourself; problem is you didn't have the balls. So get the fuck over it man.”

He released Riley, who proceeded to push him away firmly. His face was laced with pure rage, and without a word, Riley slipped into the driver's side of Demetri's car. He pulled the spare seat of keys from the glove box and started it up. As he sped away, Demetri saw a hand creep up slowly from the backseat and wave.

Instantly, his face twisted into panic, his fight with Riley forgotten. He began to frantically pat his clothing until he found his cell phone tucked into the pocket of his jacket. His hands trembled as he fumbled to get the phone out of the pocket and flip it open. He groaned when he looked at the glowing face of the phone. “Fuck, no signal!”

Looking up, he saw that Riley was stopped at the light a block away. Frantic to warn his friend, he began running after the car, waving his hand in the air. As the light changed to green, the car spun its tires and sped away. Demetri pushed his legs faster in a fruitless effort to stop the car, his hand waving in the air as he called out, “Riley wait!”

**~o0o~**

Riley was fuming as he sped away, not bothering to look back. Sure, he'd essentially just stolen Demetri's car, but he wasn't going to do anything about it. He would probably call a cab and wait at his house. At worst, he may decide to beat his ass, but Riley doubted that.

His fists tightened around the steering wheel as he ground his teeth, trying to reign in his anger. After a moment, he gave up and began punching the dashboard.

“That motherfucker! Some fucking crazy prick is after us, and he doesn't even tell me. He acts like it's nothing.” He punched the dashboard a few more times, getting more and more pissed off by the second. “I'll fix it. I'll go to the police and turn State's Witness. They offered me that before...”

From the backseat, a loud whisper came, interrupting his rant. “Riley...”

Startled, Riley started to hit the brakes. “What the fuck?” Before he had time to react, the figure in the backseat leaned forward and wrapped his arm around the seat, pressing the blade of a knife to his throat. Riley swallowed hard, his vision blurring slightly with tears.

“Don't stop. Keep going, Riley. We've got a long way to go.”

“Come on, man, where are we going?” Riley cried as the tears began to slip down his cheeks.

The voice chuckled. “If I tell you, that will ruin the surprise. You like surprises don't you, Riley?”

“N-no,” he sputtered in a teary voice.

“Hm, I suppose I'll have to rethink this then.” The pressure on the knife at his throat increased marginally, and Riley began to choke.

“Fuck man,” he gagged. “Ease up. I didn't kill her, man. I swear I didn't.”

The pressure against his throat didn't ease up as the voice whispered calmly, “Did you stop it?”

His eyes widened as he took in the question and the tears spilled faster from his eyes. When he didn't reply, the pressure increased more, and he let out a cry as he felt his skin start to tear. “No!” he yelled hysterically, hoping the pressure would ease up.

“Then I'd say you killed her, wouldn't you?” the figure asked in a tight voice. “Turn left up here.”

Riley did as he was told, pulling onto a side street. There were a few houses, but it was pitch black outside and he couldn't make out the area. The place was completely unfamiliar, and he began to panic.

“Okay, Riley, are you ready for your surprise? Stop here.”

Riley stopped, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way out of this. “Come on, man. Please God, don't...” Suddenly, he was cracked over the back of the head with the hilt of the knife, knocking him unconscious.

With a deep breath, the figured climbed out of the backseat and opened the driver's side door, dragging the unconscious body toward the darkened house behind him.

**~o0o~**

The room was mostly bare; a mixture of sweet brightness, and macabre darkness rolled into one. The walls were a delicate pale yellow color. All along the base, rising halfway up the walls was white wallpaper with colored polka dots. Throughout the room, the yellow half of the walls was decorated sporadically with painted clowns. It was a stark contrast to the thick, black plastic that covered the windows and the table on the left wall.

In the center of the room was a wooden chair. Riley sat with his ankles duck taped to the front legs. His hands were taped behind him, and the same grey binding wrapped several times around his chest, holding him place. His mouth was gagged with tape as well. Riley was unconscious, his head hanging heavily in front of him.

The door to the room opened, its loud groan causing Riley's eyes to open hazily. The figure stepped in, a knapsack slung over his shoulder. He slammed the door shut, jolting Riley into full consciousness, before walking over to the table.

Riley's eyes widened as he watched the man open the sack and begin to pull things out of it, setting them neatly on the table. There was a power saw, a large kitchen knife, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a pair of pliers, and a Zippo lighter. The figured dropped the empty sack to the floor and kicked it under the table before turning to face Riley.

“Hello, Riley.”

Riley's eyes snapped to the man, and he began to jerk against his bonds, his eyes searching frantically for an escape. After a few moments of fruitless efforts, he locked eyes with the man and began to try to speak. His eyes stung with tears, and he tried to plead with the man. His words were garbled against the gag, but that didn't stop him begging anyway. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but he was fairly certain it was going to be bad.

Then the figure spoke again. “You can't speak, Riley. I wasn't sure when you'd wake up, you see. And, I didn't want you screaming and spoiling our surprise.”

Riley stared at the man, helplessly, tears slipping down his cheeks and onto the gag. The man walked closer, squatting down in front of him. His face was a perfect mask as he stared right into Riley's eyes. “You like the room? Our baby was going to be in here. A new life, growing, blooming into adulthood. Right now, I should be celebrating his first coos, maybe him crawling to me from across the floor. But, I'm not, am I? You changed that…you and your friends.”

The man rose to his feet, and walked over to the table. His back was to Riley as he trailed his hands reverently, almost loving, over the various implements on the table. “How fitting it is, I think, that the room where my life was to begin is the room where the person who ended that hope is going to die.”

The man dropped his hand to his side and turned back to face Riley, noticing the boy's eyes were wide and filled with fear. “Oh yes, Riley. You're going to die today. It's not going to be fast, or enjoyable, but you are going to die. There's not much you can do about that.”

Panic, fear, hatred, and various other emotions coursed through Riley's veins, and he cried silently. His eyes stayed locked on the man as he strode purposefully toward him. Riley flinched back instinctively as the man reached his hand forward, but the man didn't stop his movement. Instead, he grabbed the left side of the tape covering Riley's mouth and ripped it away, hard and fast.

“Please, please don't do this. I didn't kill her, I didn't! Demetri did, man! Doesn't that mean anything to you?” Riley sobbed, pleadingly.

The man pursed his lips for a moment before turning on his heel and striding back toward the table. With no hesitation, he picked up the power saw and spoke in a harsh, cold voice. “No.”

Riley's eyes widened, and his breathing began to accelerate as the figure turned back to him, saw in hand. There was a wicked glint in the man's eyes, as if he had just found absolution. He strode slowly back toward Riley, the glint in his eyes at odds with the lack of emotion on his face. He came to a stop right in front of him and pushed the button on the saw. The blade began to spin madly.

Riley broke down, knowing he wasn't going to make it out of this. “No, please.”

The man didn't seem to register his whispered plea as he knelt down in front of him. Without a word, the man used his free hand to unwrap the tape around Riley's left leg, freeing it from its bond. Riley was hyperventilating as the man began to lower the spinning blade to his freed foot, just above the ankle.

“No,” Riley cried out again as he fruitlessly tried to move his leg out of the way. The man grunted and grabbed his leg, holding it still.

“No,” Riley screamed and then the searing pain hit him.

**~o0o~**

“Check here,” Demetri ordered the cabbie as he pointed to the left. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, pulling out his phone and frantically dialing Riley's number. “Come on Riley, pick up...pick up.” He groaned as the line rang once, twice, thrice and then went to voice mail.

“Yo, This is Riley. If I'm not answering, I either don't give a fuck who you are, or I'm away from my phone. Leave a message and I may call you back.”

“Fuck!” Demetri snapped the phone shut, angrily, and threw it into the floorboard of the cab. Where the fuck was Riley? What was happening? Groaning, he slammed his head back against the seat. He hated feeling so helpless. Finally, after a few more brief moments, he leaned up. “All right, take me home.” The cabbie nodded as he relayed his address.

He sighed and slumped back into his seat, his left arm resting over his eyes, while his right arm wrapped around his torso. His hand rested on the light bulge at his waist. He reveled in the feel of the metal pressed against his skin, thankful that he had managed to grab another gun this late at night. He'd have to thank Raoul for his connections when this shit was finished.

They finally pulled up to the house, and Demetri tossed the fee over the seat, sliding out of the car without a word. As he strode up the driveway, he saw a man standing on his porch in full military fatigues. “Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Specialist Embry Call with the United States Army. Are you Demetri Disman?

Demetri stopped walking and let his left hand drift to the gun at his side. “Yes, I am. What do you want?”

“I believe we may have a mutual acquaintance. I'd like a moment of your time to talk, if I could.”

Demetri pursed his lips, not sure what to think of the guy in front of him. So far he hadn't posed a threat, and if he did, Demetri was sure he could unload his clip into him without question. “Yeah, sure. Let's go inside.”

Demetri and Embry strode into the house, closing and locking the door behind them. Standing outside and across the street, a figure watched them.

**~o0o~**

Demetri and Embry sat across from each other in the living room. Demetri's eyes were averted to the floor while Embry kept his eyes trained on him. “So you see, Demetri, I need to find him, pretty quickly.”

Demetri sighed, not bothering to look up. “So your friend, Jacob, that's the guy who killed Marcus?”

Embry sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, his hand clasped in front of him. “Yes, I suppose it is. Have you called the police?”

Now Demetri lifted his gaze, staring at the man in front of him incredulously. “And tell them what? This dude is after me because I killed his wife? Yeah, okay, let's give me a life sentence.”

Embry chuckled darkly. “Better than being dead, wouldn't you say?”

Demetri's nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw tightly. “I can take care of this fuck. I don't need a fucking cop to help me take care of a fucking Rambo wanna-be.”

Embry chuckled once more. It was not a humorous sound. “Rambo? That's a good one. Boy, you really are out of your depth here.”

“What is this guy, fucking God of the battlefield or something?”

“Something like that.” Embry sighed heavily, sitting up in his seat. “Let me tell you a story, Demetri. About eight months ago, we got a report that there were suspected insurgents hiding in Diwaniyah. These men were responsible for something like one hundred IED explosions, and over fifty American deaths. My squad was called in to 'clean' the village.”

“You mean kill them, right?” Demetri interrupted.

“Yeah, kill them. We got there and immediately fell under fire. We returned fire, of course, and managed to pin the enemy down in this schoolhouse. We moved up for the assault. Jacob was in the lead. Our lieutenant received orders to stay out of the schoolhouse until we got some backup, but that didn't happen.”

Embry didn't speak again for a few minutes, his silence starting to piss off Demetri. “So, what happened?”

Embry sighed. “Jacob happened. Something just happened to him; he charged through the door. We tried to stop him, but we couldn't…not without exposing ourselves to enemy fire. Hell, how he got through, I'll never know. What I do know is that there was no one left alive after he was finished. He killed them all, having gone from room to room. He killed them – men, women, and children…twelve in all. Lieutenant Andrews and I went in next, and Jacob was just standing there, looking down at the corpses of those people. You wouldn't believe the look on his face. There wasn't an ounce of soul left in that look, Demetri. You and your friends did that to him.”

“Hey fuck you, man. It's not my fucking fault Mr. God of the Battlefield decided to go ape shit and kill a bunch of people.”

Embry growled slightly as he spoke. “Yes, it is. You see, I grew up with Jake. We grew apart after my family moved away, and we didn't see each other for over ten years. The next time I saw him was when we were mobilizing. He was completely different from the kid I’d grown up with. He was mature, decisive, not at all like the careless kid I remembered.

We got to talking, and he told me about his wife, Bella. God, the way his face lit up when talked about her, you'd think their lives were connected. What I didn't realize at the time, was how much he needed her. She grounded him, kept him sane. He would do anything for her, even if it was illegal.” He stopped and stared at Demetri for a long moment before continuing.

“He had just left when he got the letter from her saying she was pregnant. At first he was distressed, thinking she cheated on him and shit. But Bella, to prove she'd been faithful, got an amniocentesis and had a DNA test run. She sent the results to Jake, and he was so happy to find out that he was going to be a father. It's all he talked about for our first six months over there.

When he came home for leave, he was thrilled to see her. He said she was glowing, and that it was indescribable what it was like to see her carrying his child. And then just a week or so after we got back there, he got the wire saying she'd been killed.” He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, ducking his head. “In all honesty, I believe he would have remained stable if your case hadn't been dismissed.”

Demetri stared at Embry for a long moment. “You just told me that story. That shit happened eight months ago. Our case hadn't been thrown out at that time.”

Embry shrugged. “Perhaps you're right. Maybe what set him off was just losing his family. Either way, it's your fault.”

Demetri ground his teeth angrily. “I want to know why the fuck he's not in jail!”

“We covered it up. He’d snapped, and we knew it. We thought we could reign him in; send him to counseling or something. We just got home last week. Before we could get him set up, he just vanished from the MOB station. Just...gone.”

“So what are you doing here, then? Why the hell aren't you at the police station?”

Embry shook his head. “I tried; they didn't believe me. I've got to find him.” He lifted his eyes to Demetri's, almost pleading for understanding.

Demetri's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward in his seat. “Look, fuckhead, I've had enough. If your boy is stupid enough to come here,” he paused as he snatched the gun from his side, rose to his feet, and pointed it at Embry's head. “I'll put a couple of slugs in his chest. We'll see how good he is then.”

Embry stood and held his hands up, defensively. “I hope that's the case, Demetri,” he placated. “I hope you know what you're getting into here.”

“Just get the fuck out of my house, man,” Demetri said, the gun staying trained on Embry as he turned his back to him and walked out the door. With a loud huff, Demetri fell back into his chair, his gun hanging limply in his grasp.

Outside the house, Embry shook his head as he pulled his keys from his pocket. The kid had no idea what he was in for. He came to stand by the driver's side of his car, but stopped before opening the door.

Something didn't feel right; he felt like he was being watched. Instinctively, his eyes began searching, landing across the street. There was nothing there. He looked around a few more times, unable to shake the feeling.

“Jake, don't do it.”

With that, he climbed into his car and drove away.

**~o0o~**

Demetri awoke to the sound of his phone text alert. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he reached forward and grabbed the phone. He glanced at the text message, it was a phone number.

“Oh thank God, Riley,” he mumbled, his voice still hoarse with sleep.

He quickly dialed the number and listened as it rang. On the third ring, the voice mail picked up, and Demetri's eyes widened as he heard the sound of a power saw followed by the screams of his friend. He listened, completely frozen, to the sound of the saw as it tore into something fleshy and Riley's cries broke out over the sound.

“Please God, no! I can't take it! Fuck! Kill me!”

Demetri's hand shook, his mind frozen and unable to react. He listened to the fleshy sounds as the saw tore through his friend. Riley's screams became gurgled and unintelligible and then there was a sudden splatter and a thud.

Over all of the macabre sounds came a voice, the voice he'd heard earlier in the night on Marcus' phone. “I'm coming for you, Demetri.”

Demetri's eyes went wide, and he shut off the power on the phone. Behind him came a deep, husky chuckle. He turned his attention frantically over his shoulder, and saw a man with russet colored skin and black, cropped hair standing behind his couch. He screamed as he began scanning the room for the gun he'd had earlier.

He spotted it under the coffee table and made to dive for it, but the man was already barreling over the couch toward him. The man grabbed his head and slammed it into the table. Demetri was dizzy and felt blood begin to seep down his brow. After a moment, he regained his awareness and flung his weight backwards, feeling the man's body leave his.

He heard a crash behind him, but didn't bother to see what it was, instead pushing himself to his feet and bolting for the door. The man was already on his feet, coming up behind Demetri. He reached him just a few feet from the door and shoved him forward. Demetri hit the door hard, his nose cracking as blood began gushing out.

Demetri screamed for help before spinning around and throwing a punch. The man ducked under it, grabbing him by his shirt and throwing him into the living room. Demetri rose to his feet, but staggered as the man began an onslaught of punches. The man shoved him roughly toward the bedroom, and Demetri's footing became unstable, causing him to fall to the ground.

He rolled to his knees, scrambling across the floor toward the bedroom door. Behind him, the man pulled out a knife.

Demetri made it to the room and scurried in, rolling back to his butt and using his legs to push the door. Just as it was closing, the man hit it hard, causing it to crash against his feet and making him cry out. The man knelt down, drawing the knife across Demetri's chest and cutting him open. He cried out again and scrambled back away from the man, who was now advancing on him, slowly, methodically.

“Is this what it felt like, Demetri?”

Demetri pushed to his feet, launching himself forward. The man countered his punch with the knife, slicing open his wrist before dropping down and cutting his thigh open. He straightened and shoved Demetri yet again, this time toward the wall. Demetri staggered back, weak from the blood loss, and stumbled forward falling to his knees.

“Is that how it felt to take a life for you?” the man asked. “Did it make you feel powerful?”

“What the fuck, man? It was an accident! An accident!”

The man stepped closer to him and threw a vicious punch, smashing Demetri in the face violently and knocking him from his kneeling position.

“An accident? AN ACCIDENT! She was pregnant, you fuck! You took her from me. You took my child! Everything that was mine, it's gone because you wanted a fucking TV! Did you get a good price? Huh?”

Before he could reply, the man kicked him hard in the chest. Demetri slumped to the ground as the man advanced on him to finish him off.

“Jake, stop!” Embry's voice called from behind.

Jacob turned around, slowly, to find Embry standing behind him, a handgun trained on him. The two stared at each other for a long moment while Demetri, still on the floor, began to cry pitifully.

“Thank you, thank you!”

Jacob ignored his victim, his eyes locked on Embry's. “Hello, Call.”

“Hey, Jake. You don't want to do this,” Embry replied.

“I don't?” Jake asked, gesturing toward Demetri with his knife.

Embry shook his head. “It's not your responsibility.”

“Not my responsibility?” Jacob grimaced. “Do you know what I've lost because of this fucker? Do you realize just exactly what he took from me?”

“Look man, I know he killed your wife, but...”

“My wife?” Jacob cut him off. “No, no. She was so much more than that. She was the light in my dark world. She was the sunshine that brightened every day. My life, my very soul is nothing without her. And more than just taking her, he took my child as well.”

“I know, dude, but that doesn't give you the right to play executioner. There's a justice system for that.”

Jacob ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring. “If you remember right, Call, your precious justice system failed me.”

Embry gave a stiff nod, agreeing. “You're right, it did. At least at first, but you could appeal for a new trial to be brought up. With new evidence, he could still pay for what he's done.” His eyes darted to Demetri quickly, who was struggling silently to get away from the two men.

Jacob shook his head. “And then what, he get's life in prison. It's not enough.”

“It has to be,” Embry stated, turning his attention back to Jacob.

“Maybe so, but it's not,” Jacob whispered. He turned his attention to Demetri, who was crawling away, weakly. “Nothing that's done to him will be enough punishment.” He paced over to where Demetri now was, and without hesitation, kicked him hard in the gut, causing the man to double over. There was a click behind him, and Jacob immediately recognized it as the gun being cocked.

“Just drop it, dude. Please,” Embry pleaded.

Jacob turned back to him, and after a moment tossed the knife away. “So you would stop me now, when I'm so close? You owe me this, Embry. I saved your ass over there. You owe me! Let me do this, please. I _need_ this!”

Embry shook his head. “You don't need this. Come on, Jake, let me get you help. We can work through this man. You can move on.”

Jake shook his head, his eyes slowly flooding with tears. “There's no moving on from this, Call. It's too late.”

“No,” Embry choked. “You can still make it through this. We'll go to the judge; we'll explain that you're suffering from PTSD. We'll get you out of this, man, but this has to end…,here, tonight.”

“And then what, Em? I try to live a normal, balanced life? I live alone?” he choked. “In that house? Filled with the memories of her, where we were supposed to raise our child?” Tears streaked down Jacob's face now.

“That's how it has to be, Jake. You have to let the law handle this.”

“That's not good enough. It'll never be good enough. You owe it to me to let me do this. Just walk away and let me do this. You. Owe. Me.” He enunciated the last three words deliberately.

Embry stood, staring at him for several long moments before finally training the gun on Demetri. Demetri's eyes widened, and he began to beg, but Embry ignored his pleas and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through Demetri's head, leaving a massive hole out the back of it. Blood, brain matter, and bone splattered across the walls and floor.

Without a word, Embry turned the gun back on Jacob, his gaze stone cold. “Now, I owe you nothing.”

Jacob stared at his friend for a long time. His face was no longer etched in anger, but in pain. Now that Embry had taken from him his revenge, there was nothing left for him. He was hollow and broken without Bella. The pain was excruciating, but he knew he could be released from it. He wanted to be released. He wanted absolution.

He spoke, his voice hoarse from his tears. “No, Embry. There is one other thing you owe me. Only you can grant it.”

Embry took a deep, shaky breath, his own tears spilling over. “So, I do.”

Jacob closed his eyes, silently begging for forgiveness. He heard the bang, but didn't feel the pain as the bullet tore through his skull, severing his head from his body.

No, instead, Jacob felt the powerful weight of dread lift from his body. He was surrounded by an all too familiar scent of freesias. He knew it too well. Before that moment, he might have mourned at encountering anything even remotely close to it. Now however, it was a blessing, and he relished it in like a perfectly drawn bath.

Her voice rung out just a moment later.

“Jake.”

And he knew he'd found absolution.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Hate it? Let me know what you think.


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